Three Things

Summary: Before the conflict between the Agency and the Omidella, there was an environmental disaster that brought the world down. Eight-year-old Marla can only bring three things.

Chapter 1

Marla remembers three things from the before part of her life.

1: The world ended forever a few days after she turned eight.

2: There was still some leftover cake in the fridge. The
cake had been chocolate, with sickly sweet vanilla frosting and tasteless
colored sprinkles. Twelve years later the cake reminded Marla of her life: A
rich, delicious base with some embellishments that were maybe too wonderful, and some extra things
that didn’t really matter.

(What she wouldn’t give for cake now.)

3: Marla lived in New Mercy, a town in the Appalachian
Mountains, in a country formerly known as the United States.

(It was now called the United Coalition of Territories. It
was originally called this when the oceans devoured enough land for many of the
eastern states and western cities to vanish.)

The mountains were
close to the edge of the water, but they still stood high above the waves. High
enough for there to be many cities and towns. Marla’s town was small, but it
was self-sustaining and had a school and adults who nurtured the small number
of children.

Global warming had affected many places in the world, but Marla’s
town had stayed wonderfully safe and mostly normal. They definitely weren’t as
safe as the towns that were rumored to be covered in domes or underground to
stay away from the chemicals in the air and the entreating oceans, but it was
safe enough. The mountain air was clean(ish) and the oceans had no chance of
getting high enough to flood Marla’s mountaintop. Her town was rich enough that
they were able to make Marla a chocolate birthday cake for her eight birthday.

Marla’s birthday occurred a few days after the third quarter
of school ended. Marla had straight As and a teacher’s recommendation for
skipping a year of school. Her parents were extremely proud of her; their Marla
was just that smart.

(In fact, if Marla had taken an IQ test, than it would have
been revealed that she had an IQ of 134.)

But a few days after Marla Brown turned seven, everything
changed.

The Territories of Maine and Vermont had been in a war with
Quebec over territory. Everyone had assumed that this war was something that would
stay isolated in that region. After all, it was just a petty land battle that
didn’t concern anyone out of those territories.

They were wrong. Because damn them, Maine nuked Quebec. Since
the first bombing back in 1945, scientists had worked on the nuclear bomb until
it didn’t kill as many plants if dropped. However, nuclear chemicals traveled
on the winds all around the world. The oceans weren’t really a problem any
more. The chemicals in the air were now much more pressing.

Marla could remember when her parents told her. (Well, they
didn’t really tell her. She eavesdropped on one of their conversations and saw
how upset and scared they were, and heard what they were talking about.) And
suddenly, it didn’t matter how smart Marla was. She was going to slowly waste
away along with everyone else in the town of New Mercy.

Except…not really.

During school one day (the adults were trying to simulate
normalcy for the children) there was a loud, roaring sound from outside. Marla
looked out the window, along with everyone else in the class, and was amazed to
see what looked like a helicopter, right here on her mountain.

“Ms. Glass, can we go outside?” Marla’s best friend Omidella
Aster asked. (Her strange name had been given to her as a combination of her
parents’ names, Omi and Della.) A few other kids nodded in agreement.

“Not right now,” Ms. Glass answered. “After school, though,
ask your parents. If they say yes, then you can look at it. We have math to get
through.”

“Please?” Tommy Kowalski begged. “It’s so cool! When else
are we going to see a helicop—a helicopter?”

“I’m sure that they will still be here after school,” Ms.
Glass assured Tommy. “A helicopter wouldn’t come here unless they had serious
business. If you’re good, maybe they’ll take you for a ride!”

Tommy looked disappointed, but he closed his mouth.

Marla looked back at her bar graphs and tried to think about
how to space out the numbers on the Y-axis equally. Without counting, she could
tell that there were exactly 24 lines. It only took a little effort for her to
deduce that 8 children in 24 lines was intervals of 3 lines.

The exact thing she was graphing was how many children were
in specific grades in school. She remembered because as she was in the middle
of graphing it, a knock came on the door to the classroom. She and everyone
else in the class looked up to see two people, a man and a woman (the man had
dark hair and a mustache, while the woman was blonde with freckles) standing
there.

The man briefly conferred with Ms. Glass, who paled. Ms.
Glass whispered something back, and the man shook his head.

“Marla?” Ms. Glass said. “Could you please come up here? Get
your things, these people need to talk to you.”

“Oooohhh…” the rest of the class chorused.

Marla ignored them and stood up. She grabbed her graph (no
use leaving something unfinished), picked up her folder, and walked to the
front of the classroom. On the way, she grabbed her jacket. Marla didn’t have a
backpack.

“Okay, honey,” said Ms. Glass, leaning down, “These nice
people are going to take you home. Go with them. I just—” her voice broke. “I
just want you to know that you are one of the most gifted students I’ve ever
had. It’s been a pleasure teaching you.”

(Years later, Marla realized that Ms. Glass knew she was
going to die.)

/////\\\\\

The nice people took Marla home, past the helicopter, past
hundreds of rocks and pebbles and grasses that Marla had seen all of her life.
Marla managed to tuck her graphing sheet into her folder so that it wouldn’t
get ruined by all of the dust blowing around outside. Marla thought that it
seemed as though the dust whipping around her face was a little sharper, a
little faster, and that the grass seemed more sickly than the last time she had
been outside.

A few minutes later, they were at Marla’s house. The man
knocked on the door. With a jolt, Marla realized that the expression on his
face had stayed the same since Marla had first seen him.

Marla’s mother, Gwendolyn Brown, had opened the door. She
had been surprised to see the two people standing there. “Hello,” she ventured,
“How can I help you?”

“We’re here to talk about your daughter,” the woman said.
Her voice was high and hard.

“My—I’m not quite sure I understand.”

“Ms. Brown,” the woman said firmly, “I’m sure you’ve noticed
that your daughter is quite gifted. We’d like to take her to a place where she
can hone her abilities. May we come in?”

“I—well—I mean, of course,” Gwendolyn stuttered. “Please
come in.”

Marla led the two people through the door of her house. Her
mother signaled that she should go to her room. Disgruntled, Marla went into
her room. Luckily, her sleeping space was right next to the kitchen, where her
mother and the two strangers were convening. Marla pressed her ear to the door
and listened.

“—dear, you better come over here,” Gwendolyn said. No
response came, and then Gwendolyn spoke again. “Yes, it’s about Marla. They
want to take her away.” Marla realized that her mother must have been talking
on the telephone.

Gwendolyn hung up. “Can I offer you anything while we wait?”

“Just some water,” came the male voice.

“Alright,” said Gwendolyn. She clattered around the kitchen,
getting two glasses for water. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Gwendolyn Brown,
although of course you knew that. Would you mind telling me your names?”

There was a brief silence. “I’m Katrina Lerner,” said the
female voice. “You can call me Agent Lerner. I work for the Citizen Protection
Agency, or the CPA.”

“Mark Johnson,” said the man. “I don’t have any such
credentials, but I work as a helicopter pilot.”

A door opened and slammed. Noah Brown was home. “Would
anyone mind telling me what this is about?” Noah blustered.

“I’m sure that you know about the bomb that was dropped,”
said Agent Lerner. “It’s having a rather…problematic effect on the atmosphere. And
while you might not know this, we expect that most humans who are living in
exposed areas will die within the next five years.”

Marla jerked her head away. She had no idea the magnitude of
this bomb! She had assumed that there would be some rough years, but that
humanity would make it through as it always did.

“I didn’t know about the extent of the bomb,” Gwendolyn said
quietly. “I knew that it was dangerous, but not like this.”

“Yes. Well, that is the truth,” said Agent Lerner. “But the CPA
has been working overtime to try to move humans underground. Obviously,
prominent public officials and other people such as scientists have taken first
priority—”

“WHAT?” Noah yelled. “So basically, all you’re doing is
saving the rich and famous and leaving the rest of us to die? Get out! Get out
of our house!”

“If you will let me talk, Mr. Brown,” Agent Lerner said
sharply. “Bluntly stated, yes. That is what we are doing. However, I prefer to
think of it as a way to make sure that humanity endures. It is important that
at least some people make it through this crisis. The human race is more likely
to survive if scientists, political leaders, doctors, those types of people
make it through.”

“Then why are you here?” Gwendolyn asked. “No one in New
Mercy has those credentials. Are you just rubbing this in our face? I’m halfway
to throwing you out of my home right now. At least let us die in peace, without
you high-faluting government types laughing at us!”

“We have come here because we believe that your daughter is
a genius! All grades are put into a central computer that the CPA has access
to. From these grades, we have come to believe that your daughter is the type
of talented individual that we would want to survive,” Agent Lerner said,
standing up and slamming her fist on the table.

“You want to take our child?” Noah asked. “That’s it. Get
out.”

“I’m sure that you want the best for your child,” Mark
Johnson spoke up. “We’d be giving her the best chances of living.”

“Please call her out here,” Agent Lerner said.

“Marla! Could you please come here?” Gwendolyn called. She
then whispered something to Noah that Marla couldn’t hear. Marla opened the
door and ran to the table.

“So you’re Marla?” Agent Lerner asked. She smiled down at
Marla. “I’m Agent Lerner. I’m here to see if you want to come away with us.”

Marla remembered that she wasn’t supposed to know what was
going on. Her parents would be angry that she had eavesdropped, and Marla only
wanted to make them proud.

“Why would I have to go?” Marla asked.

“Honey,” Gwendolyn leaned forward, “There’s no easy way to
tell you this. But apparently, it’ll be much safer for you if you go with
them.”

““But…I’d have to leave,” Marla said. “Can’t you come with
me?” She addressed Agent Lerner. “I’d go if they could go with me.”

“Look, kid,” said Mark Johnson, “You’re what, seven? You’re
smart, but not vital to the community of survivors. We have no obligation to
take you with us.”

I’m eight! Thought
Marla. You expect me to go with you when
you don’t even know that I’m eight? There was no choice for Marla, then.
Marla loved her parents, and loved her town. There was no way that she was
going without them.

“No,” Marla answered.

Agent Lerner and Mark Johnson exchanged a surprised glance.
Marla could read the confusion flitting across their faces at her answer. For a
moment, Marla felt fleeting pity. She wouldn’t want to be so grown up that she
thought life was the best thing, over family and love.

“Marla,” whispered Marla’s mother, “we want you to go with
them.”

For a moment, Marla was uncomprehending. “But why?”

“You’ll live on. You’re gifted, honey. And we’re your
parents. We love you. We want you to make it through this.”

Marla turned back to Agent Lerner and Mark Johnson. “I’m
sorry. I do.”

“You can bring three things. No more, no less,” said Agent
Lerner. “We leave in half an hour.”

/////\\\\\

What to bring?

Marla stood in her small room. For
once in her life, she couldn’t think. She was leaving, leaving her family and
her home and her friends. She couldn’t fully comprehend it.

Except for one thing. Her parents
wanted her to survive. She was being given this opportunity when no one else
was. She had to honor everyone else in New Mercy by being smart and responsible
and living. So Marla started packing. Only
three things.

The first thing was an obvious to
Marla. It was a clear plastic pocket that contained two pictures. The first was
a picture of Marla’s class. It had her best friends and Ms. Glass and even
Timothy, who she didn’t like but was amused by. The back side showed her
parents when they were younger, before Marla was alive and before the world was
ending for the second time. Marla placed it on her bed and looked at her room
again.

The second thing was less obvious
to her. She had choices between some of her books, or more pictures. With only
three things to bring, making a decision was hard for her.

In the end, she picked up a set of
colored pencils that she had gotten for her birthday. It was given to her by
the town as a whole, so all of her friends and family had a hand in it. The
multiple colors were also very handy in organization and creating line graphs.
Organization was something that Marla liked.

Surveying her room once more,
Marla realized that she still had the graph. No sense in leaving anything
unfinished. Marla picked up the graph, the pencils, and the pictures and walked
out of her room.

Marla’s mind
couldn’t—wouldn’t—wrap itself around the fact that she was leaving her home and
her family forever. That her family was going to die and that she, through some
fluke of fate and talent, was the one that was surviving. It was overwhelming.

But she still left and got on the
helicopter and she never saw New Mercy again and that was the last that she
remembered of her home.

/////\\\\\

The government had a refugee
center. That was where Marla went to and where she lived for years. She even
made a few friends, all as talented as she was. (Of course they were, that was
why they had been rescued.)

And there were around 3 things
that Marla was still sure of.

1: Most of the people she loved
were dead. Marla had a few friends, but nothing came close to replacing her
dead parents or Omidella.

2: She hated Agent Lerner with a
passion that didn’t go away over time. Quite the opposite, actually, Marla’s
hate festered and fermented and was added to with every insensitive comment
that Agent Lerner made. If Marla had a gun in her hand and no one around, then
she might have been able to kill her. Agent Lerner represented every bad thing
about the Agency that had saved her. Agent Lerner reminded Marla of the
insensitive numbness that the Citizen Protection Agency had displayed when
abandoning those who weren’t talented enough for them.

3: Marla wants to start a
different Agency, once dedicated to protecting all people rather than the few who were considered talented.

She’d call it something to remind
herself of her dead friends, her dead parents. Maybe that would at least remind
the Agency people of what they had done.

Yes. Maybe she would name it after
her dead best friend.

Omidella.

Write a Review
Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks,
Way_Out_There

Truemy Brewer:
Great first chapter! You tell the story dramatically, but not overly and with just the right amount of words.. There is no cut in the action. I do wonder at the ladies male friend from the village, and what happened to him, but I suppose that will be revealed later. This seems like an epic in the...

_JosephJacobson_:
I don't understand why this has such low ratings. I really enjoyed it!I think that the whole idea behind the plot had something very special and that was something that I really enjoyed. It was new, unique. I think that some of the writing was a little strange in places but overall it made sense ...

gunter1987:
I just want to say here that this is my first review, but I really wanted to review this story. I apologize if I don't write English to well, I am French.Reading through the many science fiction stories posted here and other places in the world, I started to see a few linking themes: heavy-hande...

Michael L. Blood:
It took only a few paragraphs to "hook me" and keep me riveted throughout the remainder of the story. I have read very little if any "short stories" since "Dandelion Wine" and my freshman year in college in the early 70s - this one measures up with the best of them. The author assumes some de...

Jasmine Chow:
As I read this story, I was reminded some what of Terry Pratchett, especially some descriptions of politics and economics. The sci-fic setting is quite intriguing. Writing style is quite lovely and grew on me slowly. I was also slightly reminded of Mark Twain, especially his book A Connecticut Ya...

cassandrab:
Delightful SciFi (for a change)! I am not a SciFi fan: mostly the genre is far too dystopic for me. This book (written by a high-school friend) is, on the other hand, generally upbeat. Yes, Earth's future is threatened. But Earth has a chance to plan a response. And (spoiler alert) ultimately win...

Nymeria:
Really can't get enough of this story. It flows well, it captivates the reader from page 1, and throws you into such a well-written, well conceptualized world that you'll believe it's real. Everything in the book is meshed together really well. From character backgrounds to plot twists, you can t...

dapharoah69:
I gotta hand it to you. This was a great read from start to finish. I am a big fan of witches, thanks to Anne Rice. The characters really reeled me in from the very first few chapters. You make reading fun.

Raymond Keith Moon:
Great story arc. Nice command of the balance of overview and detail. Feels a bit like a multi-player computer game, but provides satisfying explanations for all the apparent magic. Please keep writing!